


Killing Strangers

by fedaykin



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Blood, Blow Jobs, Drug Use, Gun Violence, Kylux - Freeform, Kylux Assassins a la John Wick, M/M, Modern AU, Murder, Semi-Public Sex, Sniper Hux, Violence, past Hitaka
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-02-07 05:13:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18613864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fedaykin/pseuds/fedaykin
Summary: We're Killing Strangers, so we don't kill the ones that we love.Hux is the top assassin in Seattle, the poster boy for their community with a perfect success rate. He's quick, efficient, and arrogant - although, rumors suggest a darker side, one that toys with prey until the splash of red is beautiful. Then Snoke’s protégé, Kylo Ren, arrives in the city working under a different set of rules and pushes the balance from order to chaos. Hux hates him, yet is intrigued by him. Is Ren merely following orders or is he something worse? Either way, he is not good for the city and Hux will put Ren in his place.(Kylux Assassin AU - inspired by John Wick)





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To say that this has been a long time coming is a gross understatement. I first started 'Killing Strangers' on April 12, 2016. 
> 
> A lot has changed in kylux since then. Hux has a first name now with a lot more backstory. We had another movie to process. The fandom exploded and reformed and characterizations changed and this story just didn't fit in anymore. 
> 
> So, I wanted to try again. This is dedicated to all the fans of my two Asshats, to everyone who has encouraged me, and to everyone I met at Celebration that reassured me that restarting is not a bad thing. 
> 
> I'll be posting Tuesdays and Fridays all the way up to my birthday. I love you all. Thank you for believing in me.

* * *

 

The alarm clock chilled his fingers and Hux jerked his arm back under the comforter. In the night, he'd burrowed deep into the center of the bed, far from his nightstand, and the sheets coiled around his legs. A few weeks more and he would swallow his pride and turn on the heating. For now, he had another five minutes to snooze in his cocoon.

Each morning grew darker than the last and he struggled to wake at six. A flock of seagulls resting on his deck tried to help, screaming as the sun appeared.

The pillow thrown at the glass had no effect.

With a weary sigh, Hux opened his eyes. He cursed the floor-to-ceiling windows that faced East as a ferry blasted its horn.

He struggled upright, blinking through his blankets until he could focus on the Sound. Either the ferries were very early or very late, but not on time. Hux swallowed against the irritation in his chest; now the morning commute was likely to be a disaster.

He rolled his warm body into the frozen air of his bedroom, leaping to the bathroom to get the hot water running in the shower. A few tremors and profanities later, delicious warmth melted away the tightness of his muscles. Over the harsh splatter of spray, the radio began to blast in the other room as his five-minute snooze ended. Hux groaned and his forehead hit the cool tile on the walls.

 

* * *

 

The coffee maker gurgled and hissed as it sat over an ugly blue mug. The dark liquid had barely filled half before Hux switched it off, turning to add vanilla creamer and sugar until it overflowed. He clenched his jaw against a yawn as he stirred, stretching his shoulders until his black robe fell open. With a sniff and a sip of his drink, he flipped the TV on, tossing the remote on a dishtowel by the sink. Still the typical morning news: delays at Sea-Tac, lane closures off Mercer Island, a hiccup with one of the ferryboats backing up traffic in the whole Seattle area, Mayor Organa's plummeting ratings in the most recent poll. He shuffled closer to the screen to hear the next story, leaning on his elbows with a small smile playing on his lips.

"It's been four years since the tragic accident that claimed the lives of the stars of the movie, Forever City." Hux watched with pride as the anchor discussed the three actors, the film that became an instant cult classic in the wake of the incident, and the prestigious awards given posthumously. "Around 3:30 am, their limousine lost control on the 99 North viaduct, sending the vehicle crashing to the pier below before catching fire. All passengers, including the driver, were declared dead at the scene. Special screenings of the film will be presented today at Pacific Place."

The anchors shifted to a new story and Hux picked up his tablet, checking the weather forecast, reconfirming the sunset, last light, wind speed, and direction. It was a beautiful night for a job. Hux swirled his coffee, mixing the last bit for his final sips, and set his mug in the sink. He admired the garish logo of Forever City on its side before humming a song as he went downstairs, eager to collect his gear.

 

* * *

He was lucky to live close to the Bainbridge Ferry, he could see its approach during his whole five-minute drive, knowing he'd be there early for the next departing boat. A little over an hour after he left his house, his cobalt Bentley navigated the traffic leaving the port and heading to 4th Avenue. Several blocks down, The Piett was a modest building, brick and stone, far shorter and less glamorous than the looming towers surrounding it. But, it was home.

He parked next to the curb, attracting a few eyes admiring his sleek car. He attracted quite a few more with the figure he cut as he exited; voluminous red hair lightly styled back, a strong jaw under dark sunglasses, a pale hand working a button closed on a crisp grey suit, a black shirt undone to expose an enticing collarbone, long lean legs revealing his full six-foot-one. He slid along to the passenger door, pulling out a small black duffel and large hard-sided case, throwing both over a shoulder.

A young man in a neat charcoal suit stepped forward as Hux shut the car door.

"Mr. Hux, sir, a pleasure to see you this morning."

Hux nodded. "Thanisson," he said in greeting and tossed his keys to the other. It seemed every day that kid was becoming taller and taller, although he could do with less intensity. The hero-worship was getting unnerving, especially when the kid kept buying the same suits that Hux owned.

A new face held open the building's door for Hux, he'd have to inquire on that later, and he stepped into an opulent lobby dressed in golden hues, a few patrons lounging in chairs as he walked up to the front desk. A man with slicked black hair studied the contents of a computer.

"Mitaka, good to see you," Hux said, warmly.

"Ah, Mr. Hux, did you enjoy your vacation?"

The overly formal tone still bothered him after all these years. "It's hard to enjoy something I'm being forced to do."

Mitaka laughed politely. "You can't complete every job, sir. Do you require any assistance with your bags?"

"No, no, I've got it." Hux slid a gold coin across the desk with a frown. "Is Phasma free?"

"Meetings most of the day, I'm afraid."

Hux checked his watch. "The same for me. I assume she'll be downstairs later this evening?"

"I'll let her know you plan on catching her."

"Thank you, Mitaka."

"My pleasure, sir. Enjoy your stay."

Hux wondered if they would ever talk casually again. He walked to the elevator, nodding at the familiar faces, and pressed the button for the twelfth floor, his personal suite.

 

* * *

For seven o'clock on a Tuesday night, it surprised him that the bar downstairs was so crowded. A small band played soft jazz on an elevated stage, conversations fighting to break through the clamor, beautiful people clustered together in every corner, the air warm with smoke and sweat. The speakeasy was an assault on his senses after spending the last two weeks alone. Everyone seemed to be out tonight: informants, researchers, students, and mentors. Not all in the specific line of work as Hux, but all comfortable with the company. Some a little more comfortable than others. If someone knew the right kind of wrong people to get into this bar, it was an opportunity for them to ass-kiss their way in for a few favors.

He received an acknowledgment from everyone he made eye contact with, an act that made him feel welcome yet on display. The intentions behind those looks could mean anything. Eager to avoid that mental spiral, he found himself at the bar ordering his usual local IPA brew.

"Hey, Huxy, I haven't seen you in ages." Hux tried not to flinch away from everything: the horrendous nickname, the voice trying too hard to sound seductive, the hand that slid unwanted under his jacket to the small of his back.

He fought to make his tone amiable. "I've been busy, personal reasons." He turned to the blonde woman attached to his side. He could never remember her name, occasionally having to get blackout drunk to keep it forgotten. She was an informant, using whatever skills she possessed to go undercover and gather dirt on the denizens of the city. A glamorous description for a call girl with too many secrets to share.

Although, she clearly couldn't read body language and she slipped both her arms around his waist, pressing their hips together. She was giving him a coy smile and fluttering her eyelashes. Condescension leaked to his lips and brow.

"Aw, but Huxy, I missed you. You gonna be in a town a while? Some great clubs just opened, you'd like 'em, baby."

He very much doubted that. He pulled the woman's arms off him. "I'm only here on business tonight."

She pouted. "But you owe me a date!"

Hux didn't recall owing this woman anything except a restraining order. "If you'll excuse me," he replied, grabbing his drink from the counter.

She winked. "See you later then, baby."

He exhaled in relief, already planning how to make that statement false. She had thrown herself at him for years. And he knew what she wanted: More. More things, more power, more influence. If he ever gave in, she'd go through his things the second he fell asleep, looking for information to sell. Likely to blackmail him or maybe she'd assume he'd fall madly in love with her and worship her every move. She'd use him as a step to climb higher. It would be a waste.

He restrained himself from downing his beer in one go and scanned the room for a savior. It wouldn't be long before some other person propositioned him. He spotted a flash of short platinum blonde hair in a booth in the back and weaved his way through the crowd without spilling a drop.

Her face was buried in a book and he slipped into the seat opposite. "How can you read with all this noise?" he yelled.

"It's relaxing," she replied, not looking up from the pages.

"Relaxing? Really?"

"No one would be rude enough to come over and talk to me." Her blue eyes snapped to his.  "Except you." And those eyes didn't hide her mirth. Hux smiled and shook his head at Phasma unapologetically.

She set her book down, folding a corner of the page to keep her place. "So, how was your vacation?"

Hux shrugged, trying not to focus on Phasma's mistreatment of the paper. "It took me three days to give in and camp at the range for a week."

"I'm not surprised. You're not the idle type."

"Apparently, I'm a workaholic."

Phasma snorted into her glass. "Shocking."

"All right, fine," Hux deadpanned. "I desperately missed you and I realized I need you in my life forever."

"Are you sure you're not talking about Miss Grope-your-ass?"

Hux hid his face behind his hand, groaning. "Phasma, I will turn over all of my assets, my estates, investments, shares, coins, everything… if you can just get her to disappear. You don't even have to tell me what you do." Hux let his arms drop to the table with a thud. "Do you have a dollar on you?"

Phasma fought against a laugh. "I'm not paying you a dollar so you can kill her."

Hux smiled. "It's technically a valid transaction."

"She's a Tarkin relative and no, it's really not."

"I just—" Hux shivered. "I don't like them throwing themselves at me."

"That's a rare complaint from you." Phasma looked at him quizzically. "Shouldn't you be happy? Back at work? And today's your anniversary, right? The news says it's been four years since you pulled that little stunt."

"Flying off a viaduct in a moving vehicle is hardly a little stunt, Phasma. I'm terribly offended."

"I'm sure you are, Star Killer."

Hux groaned. "Don't call me that, you know I hate it, it's so… tacky."

Phasma laughed. "Just be glad the media didn't find it suspicious. Who knows what kind of name they would have given you. Besides, I enjoy remembering when you were so young and dramatic."

"I'm still dramatic. Just slower. And before 9 pm."

Phasma's smile was fond but clouded by something deeper. "You'll do this until the day you die."

Hux grabbed his beer and stared at the patrons. They'd been down this road before.

"I saw the contract you accepted," Phasma said, changing the subject. "It just came in this morning."

"Did it? That's..."

"Odd," she supplied. "And wouldn't you know, it came with all the details attached." 

Hux frowned. "So it wasn't our people prepping it?" 

"No one local, strangely enough, considering it's for a local." 

Hux paused, contemplating. There could be more resting on this job than he realized, but he couldn't decide if he was excited or wary. 

He wasn't going to ask questions, he was just going to get paid. 

Phasma's voice cut into his thoughts. "I want you to be careful, tonight." 

"I always am." 

She snorted. "That's an absolute lie."

"I don't do that stuff anymore... often," Hux corrected himself. 

"What time tonight?"

"Ten is good."

She raised her glass. "Happy hunting."

Hux clinked his bottle to hers.

 

* * *

The target was an older man by the name of Antilles. He lived in the Harbor Steps apartments. The corner apartment on the 18th floor. Due home around 10 pm. Fresh from his job as the Public Relations representative for the Mayor. That last bit hadn't been in his dossier, but he was a common face to see in the local political news coverage.

From Hux's vantage point on the glowing sea-green dome of the Safeco Center, he could clearly see the front door. Antilles would be a grey-haired man with dark brows and a slim nose. He lived alone. Occasionally accompanied by an undescribed woman.

Hux hated that job when he was younger: researching the targets for those who did the dirty work, so-to-speak. Dependant on the situation, it could be weeks of tailing a target, hours of phone calls to filter, habits to note, just to make things as neat as possible. Order is what separated them from murder and anarchy. Now, he relied on that system to give him the correct information and only the correct amount of information. He wasn't the Judge, just the Executioner. But, he still wondered. This would be on the news in the morning. There would be investigations. Their ties in the law enforcement would let it slip through the cracks, but still… Who had researched this job? Where were they coming from? There should have been more communication besides a data-dump. 

This was a high-risk job. His years of experience dulled him from the pressure, even though most would still call him crazy. It certainly explained why no one else had bit. 

It was a little chilly at 55° F, but the wind was minimal, even at this elevation. Hux rested on a grey blanket, clad now in more tactical attire. A fleece windbreaker covered his shirt, his suit jacket resting on his duffel bag. His left eye was glued to the sight of his dark grey rifle, short barrel attached, the two-prong stand adjusted to a perfect angle. A customized SC-76 Thunderbolt, Hux cherished the smooth metal that warmed under his hands. He had a history forged from this piece of equipment.

The apartment was missing the signs of a lived-in home. A tan couch, department store art on the wall, furniture by IKEA: no signs of individuality.

Hux checked his phone. 10:13 pm. He ignored the screaming in his shoulders. He'd had to wait much longer than an hour in this position before. It would be worth the wait. It was always worth the wait. He didn't get many opportunities to snipe targets, and while it was considerably less intimate, it was always so delightful to see them fall.

His breathing hitched, and he adjusted his position as he saw the door handle turn, a bright flash in the polished metal. Wedge Antilles, back from his long day at work.

The trick here would be waiting until his target was over the laminate floor. He didn't fear being implicated in a crime, that would be impossible regardless of his own prestige, but the death of a public figure like this required a gentler hand. He didn't need some green cop trying to play hero, sniffing in places they shouldn't. Blood on tile is easily cleaned. Blood on carpet, not so much. No need to get carried away when the listing asked for a gentle touch. Make it quick and painless, it said. Someone was sentimental.

The target shifted around the apartment, dropping bags, removing his coat, throwing himself on the couch. Hux itched to pull the trigger, but he was here to play by the rules tonight.

Minutes went by. Antilles laid his head on the back of the couch. It seemed he would be in for a test of patience tonight and he began to believe that Antilles had fallen asleep when the man stirred upright, struggling to the door. A visitor seemed odd at this hour, but perhaps it was the women from the intel. Hux directed all his attention to the scope.

A young man was at the door, towering over the target. He had unruly dark hair, a strong nose, and pouting lips, with a tension that Hux could see even at this distance. Antilles recognized this man it seemed; something startled him, his body language showing traces of fear, even while inviting him inside without hesitation. Not the reaction given to a stranger. Antilles spoke and the unidentified man remained sullen, just pulling a rolling suitcase into the room. A long-term visitor? That hadn't been in the mystery file. 

Hux watched as Antilles grew agitated, his reactions becoming grander, his mouth opening wider, his expression more exaggerated, while the younger man stuck to short answers. At least it was a strange sort of entertainment. Hux felt his curiosity grow even more. He could just shoot Antilles now, and the guest, call it a night, but he wanted to watch this play out. After coming all the way out here, why not study his prey? What made this job so different from all the others? 

The young man grabbed Antilles' head and rammed it down onto his knee.

Antilles dropped like a rock. The stranger's face was feral as he kicked and crushed the downed man. He grabbed the lamp off the table and beat it into Antilles' skull.

Hux forgot to breathe. Never, ever, had he suspected he would witness the death of his target in front of him by someone else's hand. He was mad at being denied his prize, but this was so unexpected, so brutal, so beautiful. Hux was a more than willing voyeur to this passionate violence. Antilles' face was caved in, he was assuredly dead. There was blood soaking into the carpet. It was splashed on the couch and walls, spreading more and more with each swing of the lamp. Blood speckled the killer's face and arms. The hits continued until the lamp broke into too small a piece to be effective. He stabbed it into Antilles' sternum.

The murderer collapsed on the floor, hiding his face in his hands, a brief flash of anguish before he rocked back and forth.

Hux gave an astonished laugh, almost pitying the other player, wishing he could tell him that he could have earned $500K for that reckless hammering. He wanted to call Phasma immediately and tell her what he just witnessed; it was so unbelievable. He'd seen plenty of death by his and other hands, but never something so savage and intimate.

The stranger was moving again, reaching into a pocket for a phone and calling out. Hux wondered if the man was turning himself in to the authorities. That would likely upset the contract holder; this was not a quick and clean kill. This body would not easily disappear. The man had definitely made a mess, but Hux still admired the work. The black pools of blood that faded to red and shine. The awkward angle of the corpse's legs. The arms that had contracted up. The sprays on the wall that made such perfect arcs. If Hux wasn't still in such a state of shock, he'd almost say he was aroused, his breath labored. He couldn't recall the last time he watched someone kill in such a violent way. Never?

The murderer had slipped his phone away and was washing his hands and face in the kitchen sink. Hux studied him more closely. He looked so young, maybe he was a disgruntled grandson? His hair fell in thick, loose waves, reaching his shoulders. And dressed in a pale blue shirt and tie, his sleeves neatly rolled up, dark pants and shoes. A very attractive man, Hux thought, but it was likely the bloodlust talking. A very attractive and obviously unstable murderer. It was a pity they were on the opposite ends of a similar job.

The man walked over to the bloody body and stared down at it, studying it. Hux would have given anything at that moment to know the thoughts running through that head. Regret? Satisfaction?

The man reacted to something and walked to the door, opening it. Was this going to be the end of the show?

In walked several men carrying mops, buckets, overstuffed bags, rolls of plastic wrap. Hux knew them. The murderer was talking with one of them. Hux knew his name. It was Dev Morgan. The murderer gave Morgan a gold coin.

Hux's world came to a full stop. He lowered his rifle.

That wasn't a random murder.

That wasn't a random stranger.

That man was on a job like Hux.

That man killed Antilles. That man fulfilled the contract. That man stole Hux's contract. He stole Hux's kill. Hux had accepted the job, it would have been listed as pending. And this was a high-risk job. Everyone in this city knew to not interfere with his work. Everyone knew not to interfere with his work.

For the first time in his life, someone stole his prize.

Hux was going to kill him.

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 <3 <3 
> 
> I may post a little something on dreamwidth to explain my AU and why I'm restarting. And probably cry a lot because that's just what I do. I'll discuss what I've changed, what I haven't, and why. 
> 
> Afterall, even though I LOVE the name Armitage..... this is a story about Eamon Hux. He's basically an OC at this point. He's had three years to evolve. I apologize if this puts people off, but no one is going to go back and tell Elan Hux to change his name. This is the same thing. 
> 
>  
> 
> **Art for this story:**
> 
> [This is Love](http://huxplicit.tumblr.com/post/148084995591/) by me/fedaykin/[FedaykinBree](http://www.twitter.com/fedaykinbree/)  
>  [Hux and Ren](http://huxplicit.tumblr.com/post/146735092011/) by [GenerallyHuxurious](http://twitter.com/hux_gen)  
>  [Eamon 'Star Killer' Hux](http://huxplicit.tumblr.com/post/144226684706/) by [crowlicious](http://archiveofourown.org/users/crowlicious/) 

> 
> * * *
> 
> **Find me:**
> 
> Twitter - [FedaykinBree](http://twitter.com/fedaykinbree/)  
>  Pillowfort - [huxplicit](http://www.pillowfort.io/huxplicit/)  
>  Dreamwidth - [fedaykinbree](https://fedaykinbree.dreamwidth.org/)  
>  No longer using tumblr, but my blogs are [huxplicit](http://huxplicit.tumblr.com/)|[sith-fedaykin](http://sith-fedaykin.tumblr.com/)  
>  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't begin to express how much I appreciate all the love you've given me! Thank you for the new kudos! Thank you for the comments! Thank you for the retweets! I can't do this without the support of you lovely people. 
> 
> My twitter thread yesterday reassured me: I'd like to formally introduce you all to Eamon James Hux. He's one of the Named Huxes, from the ancient pre-Armitage days. I hope you can love him, too. He's a dumbass.

* * *

It was raining when he arrived at the Piett. Soaked through and lugging the hard case of his rifle over his shoulder, the weight seemed to grow with each step he took. Clear skies, the forecast said. Hux had an unused bullet; all he needed was the meteorologist’s address.

Mitaka looked up impassively as Hux squelched up to the desk. 

So. 

He knew. 

Hux trembled from rage, embarrassment, and wet clothes.

“Your suite has been prepared for an extra night, sir. Compliments of the owner,” Mitaka said, not even daring to blink.

Pity was unacceptable. He would stay his one night allotted and crawl home in the morning. For now, he just wanted dry clothes.

“Eamon?”

Hux stopped and turned to look back, surprised at hearing the name Mitaka never spoke anymore.

“My shift ends at 1:00 am, sir.”

Hux bit his lip and walked through the elevator door. He really shouldn’t. 

 

* * *

 

The blue door slammed behind him, rattling the artwork on the walls.

“Who was it?” Hux hissed, his jaw tight.

Phasma looked up from her papers, weary. “I’m not going to invite an incident.”

“Did you know? That someone else was taking it?” Hux grabbed the back of a leather chair, his fingers digging in until it creaked. A muted television in the corner showed the damning green of the Doppler radar.

“You’d already left when it came through. Apparently, it wasn’t meant to be your job, anyway.”

“Then call me! Who was it?” Hux snapped, moving to hit his hands on the desk, leaning into Phasma’s face. “Who is doing this?” 

“No business may be conducted on these grounds,” she replied, sticking to quoting the rules than answer the question. 

Hux growled. “You sound just like my father.”

“That’s not a compliment.” She held her breath and adjusted a golden pen on her desk. “He’s… one of Snoke’s.”

“A Knight?” Hux whispered, straightening to run his hand through his damp hair, his eyes unfocused. All he could do was release an awkward laugh. “Well, his technique leaves something to be desired, it was a bloodbath.”

“You understand why we can’t get involved. This is beyond our jurisdiction.”

Hux dropped into a chair. “What are they doing here? They don’t come around for just anything.”

“I don’t ask questions. Questions get you into trouble. And I don’t have the energy for that anymore.” She shook her head. “I refuse to deal with Snoke.”

“That decaying bastard is up to something. He has no right to just swoop in here and derail our entire operation just because he has his own agenda. He should be working with us.”

“And you know he won’t,” Phasma said. “Just let business be business. It’s just a Knight. Let him do his job so he can leave.” 

“When’s the check-out? I’d like to know when we can breathe again.” 

“He’s checking out tomorrow into an apartment.”

“He’s staying?” Hux asked, brows raised. 

“Apparently.”

“So you have no idea how long he’ll be here?”

“No.” 

Hux stared at the wall with a crazy smile on his face, shaking his head. His first day back on the job and it was a living nightmare. 

“Just let it go, okay?” Phasma implored. 

Hux gave a short laugh. “That fucker made it personal.”

“And that ‘fucker’ is in this building.”

“Downstairs? I’m going.”

“And I won’t hear anything about it, correct?”

Hux smiled. “Trust me.”

 

* * *

 

He was the perfect example of relaxation as he entered the hotel bar, willing his heartbeat to slow with each step. It was a little after midnight and the crowd had thinned, everyone either working or searching for a livelier party.

He received a few brief looks as he entered the door, but nothing lingered. Good. Word of his embarrassment hadn’t traveled very far, he’d make sure of it stayed that way. The bartender sat at the opposite end, deep in conversation. Hux waved, getting enough attention to lean over and grab a beer from an ice bath. At least here he had the respect he deserved. He considered taking a shot of something strong before he felt lingering eyes on him.

Hux turned.

The Knight was tucked away in a darkened corner, also in a fresh change of clothes, hair damp and curly, but his eyes were bright. Hux wished the other man caught pneumonia.

He took a long pull of his beer before he maneuvered his way across the room, weaving between empty chairs and tables. The man gestured to the empty chair opposite him.

“I knew you’d show up eventually. How close was it? Me getting him before you?”

A million responses flashed through Hux’s head, ranging from decapitation to slowing embedding the Knight’s drinking glass into his face. It was a very small and very violent range. Hux sat.

“Nothing? I’ve heard a lot about you. The Commandant’s son. The disappointment. Unworthy of becoming a Cadet, passed over by his own father. Now he stalks Seattle as a run-of-the-mill killer-for-hire. A few incidents here and there, though, pure attention grabs. A fabricated reputation.”

Hux feared he would crush the beer bottle in his grasp. “That’s funny. I’ve heard nothing about you. But from what I recall, the Knights need replaced all the time, isn’t that right? You die, you get replaced? How much longer do you think you have?” 

“Don’t worry. You won’t live to see that day.” 

“I’m not so sure, your technical skill isn’t much to brag about,” Hux replied. “Your reading skills aren’t great either, I believe the contract didn’t want the body to become pulp.” 

“A personal choice.” 

“I agreed, it definitely seemed pretty personal to me,” Hux mumbled as he took a drink.  

The Knight frowned. “I know this can be difficult to understand, losing to someone else, but if your own father could tell you were complete shit… Well, you’re in the big leagues now.” 

The man was so impassive, comfortably stretched back in his chair. Hux played with his left sleeve, tempted to pull his knife and see how many fingers he could slice off before retaliation.

“I just came to have a chat.”

“You mean threaten me?” The Knight chuckled, his large teeth flashing white.

“If you see my name, you fuck off. I don’t give a shit why you are here or what Snoke is up to, but I don’t want to see your face again.” It was a strange face up close, one he would not forget.

“Or what? You might actually get your hands dirty?”

“You don’t think I get my hands dirty?” Hux scoffed. “I thought you knew everything about me.”

The Knight was silent for a moment, taking a sip of his drink, something light and bubbly.

“You could be entertaining, I suppose,” the man said as he set his glass on the table, gently rubbing at his thumbnail with a fingertip. “I have my own business here. Snoke sent me because I have never failed and never will. And if you get in my way, you’ll be dead before you even realize you made a mistake. Especially if you interfere with my work again.”

“That job was open.”

“A logistics issue. We didn’t think some idiot would actually try it.”

“Am I supposed to be impressed by you? You’re just a lackey, Snoke’s pawn.” Hux downed a large gulp.

“Well, now you’ve hurt my feelings, Mr. Hux,” he said sarcastically. 

Hux stood, pushing his chair in with a screech. “Do you have a name?”

The man wet his lip for a moment, still amused, as his eyes ran up Hux’s body. “It’s Kylo Ren. A pleasure to meet you.”

Of course, it was another Ren, all Rens. “I wish I could say the same,” he said. “But at least now I have the name for the paperwork.” 

He turned but Ren called after him. “Careful, Hux. That almost sounded like a threat.” 

Hux raised his middle finger over his shoulder to Ren’s delight. “Goodnight, Prince Hux! Enjoy the luxury suite your Daddy made for you.” 

He didn’t answer, focused on taking measured steps to the exit, forcing his muscles to relax, slowing his breathing. He felt those eyes on his back.

Nothing could rattle the Knight. Every verbal jab met a cool, collected air. How was he the same man that redecorated an apartment in blood splatter? The one that became sloppy and emotional in one heartbeat?  

But Ren knew how to push each of Hux’s buttons. Images of Brendol Hux came swarming from dark spots in his mind. Anger, fear, loss, a sense of being incomplete. This had to be Snoke’s doing. 

Hux’s mind rolled, his emotions wild and shifting, never knowing where to put energy. He reached the top of the stairs in the lobby and saw Mitaka. It was ten minutes until 1:00 am.

He took long strides and grabbed the other man’s arm, roughly pushing Mitaka into the small administrative office behind the front desk. The click of the door lock was loud in Hux’s ear. He’d regret this later. 

Kylo Ren trudged up the stairs ten minutes later. He paused and looked towards the desk when he picked out the muffled sounds of a man moaning. Ren called the elevator.

 

* * *

 

Hux didn’t bother sitting up. His room was too dark, no light coming from the edges of the blackout curtains. Raining still, it seemed.

He tried to replay the night before; Everything had made sense this time yesterday. 

Not anymore.

The anger had burned down to disgust. At Ren. At himself. For losing his target. For losing his composure. For relying too much on always succeeding.

Hux had once been rash and unfocused. Not as sloppy as Ren, but he had been undisciplined. In the wake of his father’s death, he’d struggled with his purpose. He had spent all his life chasing the affections of a now dead man. A waste. He would never become that pupil, he would never be a Cadet, he would never achieve that honor. He needed something, to be something. He heard the whispers, like Ren said, that he was a failure or a fluke. His father had wanted a textbook assassin, clean and precise.

He ended up emotional and reckless instead. The community had barely been enough to prevent him from slipping and being caught or killed, it didn’t matter. He’d found a new line of specialty work. Where the final result didn’t have to be neatly tucked away into a plastic bag. Where the final result fed a deep need to paint his body red.

He had slaughtered those celebrities by his own decision; the crash helped conceal the gory truth. Make it look like an accident, that was the only requirement. 

He went so far beyond that. He had dined with them, partied with them, laughed with them, he’d fucked them, he’d toyed with them. He’d slaughtered them and made a funeral pyre.

He’d done something truly remarkable. He’d enjoyed it. 

It didn’t earn the reputation he had wanted. It impressed his peers, yet they were more wary than ever. It was the whispers of young Hux, the careless boy out to prove a point. The boy who enjoyed his work too much. The boy who flew too close to the sun. The boy whose job should have been discreet, but was in the news for months. The ‘Star Killer’ smeared in blood.

It was too much. He needed order. 

He still played with his food, he refused to give that up, but now he used a more conservative approach. The thrill would be in the anticipation. The contract was merely an excuse. 

Tension vibrated through his body, still needing a place to go. He needed a special night. He had a new white suit just waiting to be worn. 

He shifted to his side and reached out for his phone to see if anything sparked his interest. If he lowered his standards just enough, maybe he’d find something…

There. A group of dealers, young and feeling immortal, had ignored too many requests and threats. They weren’t worth teaching, but they could be an example. Overall, it was pathetic and a waste of his time and talents.

Hux accepted the contract under one of his aliases. The window was in one week. Too long. 

It was humiliating, how much he needed something, someone, to kill. All because of Ren.

Ren. 

Hux hated him. Ren didn’t have a reputation to uphold. Ren could be as disastrous as he pleased. Ren didn’t seem to know what the word ‘control’ meant. He didn’t enjoy seeing it. He didn’t enjoy being able to feel that disorder.

Wanting to stop the growing headache, Hux sat up and turned on the television. At this hour, he expected the news or infomercials. Instead, it was the middle of Forever City. He studied the faces of those he killed. He listened to their voices, he wanted to recall the feel of their warm skin and the smell of their blood.

He only saw Ren’s face.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Art for this story:**
> 
> [Killing Spree In White](http://huxplicit.tumblr.com/post/150212786556/) by [Iwanttoplayguitar](http://iwanttoplayguitar.tumblr.com/)   
>  [Hux](http://valveillen.tumblr.com/post/150551306827/) by [valveillen](http://valveillen.tumblr.com/)   
>  [Blood Hands](http://boredbyreality.tumblr.com/post/175250820362/) by [BoredByReality](http://boredbyreality.tumblr.com/)   
>  

> 
> * * *
> 
> **Find me:**
> 
> Twitter - [FedaykinBree](http://twitter.com/fedaykinbree/)  
>  Pillowfort - [huxplicit](http://www.pillowfort.io/huxplicit/)  
>  Dreamwidth - [fedaykinbree](https://fedaykinbree.dreamwidth.org/)  
>  No longer using tumblr, but my blogs are [huxplicit](http://huxplicit.tumblr.com/) | [sith-fedaykin](http://sith-fedaykin.tumblr.com/)  
>  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be sure to check out the amazing art I have linked at the end of every chapter <3 
> 
> Your comments and kudos are what keep me going, thank you.

 

* * *

A lawyer named Trite. No clean up necessary. A hit and run would be clean as long as he noted the blind spots for the various security, parking, and red light cameras. It didn’t matter; the police would ignore it, that‘s why they were paid. Instead, it was a fun challenge.

The rain had persisted and made the evening rush hour unbearable, tires splashing in every pothole. The sidewalks overflowed with people and water, a steady stream of umbrellas trying to navigate home.

It was time to forget last night and Ren and get this job done. It was time to blend in. Cheap boots, khaki slacks, a lightweight navy rain jacket with the hood pulled up, a black umbrella: the staples of every Pacific Northwesterner.

His target had just left the courthouse, heading west over the overpass, aiming to stop by his office before driving home. The buildings on the west side were smaller and spread out for more trees and alleyways. Quite easy to work around the block and hit the target head-on.

Hux exhaled, trying to still the tremor in his chest. For the first time in years, he was nervous. He had no reason to be; this was an easy mark. But he still thought of the moment Ren opened the apartment door, he still thought of Ren’s voice taunting him in the bar.

He needed to focus. He’d use his left hand. The knife would catch at first, breaking through clothing, skin, fat, muscle, and fascia. One angle would slip perfectly into the celiac trunk, another angle would hit the heart in case they pass at an awkward stride. Slicing the pancreas would be optimal. It would be quick. He’d get close when the sidewalk narrowed. Hux took once last glance at Trite and stepped off the path, jogging around a building‘s parking lot to cut him off.

Ren‘s smirk flashed before his eyes.

No. He had a job.

Simple. Easy. Not terribly satisfying, but beggars can’t be choosers when jobs are picked 60 minutes beforehand just to get out some excess tension. This would help. He would feel better and he go home - he’d spend the evening cleaning blood from his knife. Hux loosened it in his left sleeve.

He took a deep breath and casually rounded the corner. Fifteen seconds until they crossed paths -

No lawyer.  

Years of experience allowed him to not react. He just kept walking, a small smile on his face as he gazed intently into stores, merely window shopping, but really using the reflection as a mirror to check the crowd.

But nothing.  

Hux stopped and slipped into an alcove, searching his pockets for his phone. Just a man taking a break from the rain. He pretended to view some imaginary message, eyes flicking up down and up, again checking those walking past him. Black umbrella, brown coat, black umbrella, brown coat, where was he?

An unnatural movement across the street. Deep in the alley. Two figures. One had the same coat as the lawyer, the same clunky briefcase, the same height and build. It was Trite.

The information had missed something. A secret tryst? Taking a bribe? Being threatened by some old client? How had he slipped by so quickly? How had he crossed the street?

The lawyer fell to his knees, then to his face. Hux darted across the street, sliding between traffic stopped at a light.

He closed his umbrella and turned cautiously down the darker path, pulling his gun out of his inner harness, finger resting along the frame. There was his contract, face down in a puddle, with some thief emptying his pockets. Hux stilled. He didn’t need this kind of confrontation. Petty criminals were unpredictable and the further into more residential areas, the higher the risks.

The lawyer was dead. Hux needed to leave.

The thief rose to their full height and turned around. And that pompous asshole shrugged at him.

“Sorry, Hux.” Ren was smiling. “I guess playing your little games didn‘t work out.”

Hux tested the trigger as Ren turned to walk away. How could this happen again? He looked at the pitiful corpse on the wet cement. How?

Hux felt his throat close and Ren was gone.

He couldn‘t shoot him. It would start a war. But it would have been worth it.

 

* * *

The sports bar stank of sweat and hot sauce. Hux grimaced around another sip of tasteless light beer, searching for nachos that hadn‘t drowned in the orange goop they claimed as cheese.

He missed the comfort of the Piett. Instead, he gave in to his self-imposed exile for his worthlessness, shoved into a testosterone-fueled crowd gathered around a dozen flat screens. He couldn‘t bear to see those pitying looks.

Another day had passed. Another day Ren had fucked up his life. Hux hated him. He hated himself. It shouldn’t be so easy to reduce him to this. He’d barely slept.

He didn’t need to kill. He wasn’t some bloodthirsty addict. He could do just fine without it.

But if he was expecting it, it had damn well better happen.  

He just felt sick. Kylo Ren was breaking him.

He thought of Ren‘s words. Was this job a game to Hux? He supposed in a way it was - he was the predator stalking the prey. What was wrong with that?

Doubt was an unfamiliar feeling. Did it all have to be a production? Was he just making things messier for his own satisfaction? Why was this a problem? He‘d already moved past this and accepted it. He understood how he wanted to play this game from the moment he limped away from a burning limo.

Hux swirled his beer, already flat and warm for it to not matter. He had taken another odd job tonight under a different name, hoping Ren wouldn’t bother to look so low on the list. It was cheap and easy. The man had been set up, invited to a hotel where Hux would happily dispatch him. It would be quick, efficient, and Morgan was on standby for clean up. Some straight business would be good for him. No theatrics, no bullshit, no games.

Hux’s pocket vibrated and he checked his phone.

**[ETA 15 min]**

He slipped a twenty under his bottle and left the clamor behind. There was a nice, cool breeze coming off the water, the occasional call of seagulls fighting for food scraps, a street musician was down the pier playing swing tunes on a clarinet. Hux tried to sink into that peace, but it was too fragile. Ren had changed everything. Snoke had no right to interfere with the workings here, sending some goon of his to cause unrest. Seattle was operating perfectly before the Antilles contract.  

He frowned for the two block jog to the hotel and his hand shook as he typed in the code for a side door. On the second floor, the room was specially designed; a bit of a pet project of his, actually. Permanently reserved for any sensitive business he or others may need to accomplish. The wallpaper and carpet were peel-away, great for a quick cleanup, the walls soundproof, with an added bubble of surrounding empty rooms to dampen anything further. Efficient and orderly and possibly sadistic.

Hux walked to the room’s bathroom to retrieve his gun and turned on the shower, a way to lead his prey deep into the trap. He took a position out of the door’s line of sight and waited. Willing himself to breathe. He had nothing to be nervous about. A Knight had no business filling such a low-level job.

Shortly, Hux heard the mechanical whirr of the lock releasing and the door opened. He was a burly man with balding hair and a disgusting air of eagerness about him. He leaned around the corner to listen to the shower, before hurriedly shaking off his coat.

This was humiliating work for his skill set. Hux felt bile in his throat rise in time with the gun in his hand. The man saw the movement, turning in the middle of unbuttoning his shirt, frozen in surprise. Hux wondered what the man saw when he looked at him. A charcoal suit, the flash of orange hair, the gun about to end everything. This is what he lived for - that flash of understanding in their eyes. Pathetic job or not, Hux was in control here.

 _Click_.

Silence. They stared at each other.

It didn’t feel right. Hux checked the chamber and rapidly pulled out the magazine.

It was empty.

It was fucking _empty_.

The man had enough presence of mind to bolt for the door, throwing it open. Hux had barely pursued before the target stopped. There were a few unsteady steps back into Hux’s chest before the man slipped past and fell flat on his back, a knife in the bottom of his jaw, shoved up into his skull.

Ren closed the door behind him and looked approvingly at Hux.

With all the force he could muster, Hux swung his gun into Ren’s temple, feeling some satisfaction, at last, when Ren fell to a knee.

“You do not touch my things,” Hux hissed, shoving the empty magazine in Ren’s face. His eyes screwed shut and blood dripped from a gash, but Ren still laughed.

Three kills stolen and Hux had reached his breaking point. “Were you sent to drive me mad? Does Snoke have some sort of vendetta against me I don’t know about?”

“No.” Ren grinned at him, large teeth tinged pink. “Nothing like that.” He wiped blood from his left eye, streaking red into his dark hair.

“So, what? This is your idea?” Hux pressed his foot into Ren’s chest, knocking him to his back.

Ren groaned in protest. “Honestly? You tried to intimidate me. This is the most fun I’ve had in a long time. God, you’re so easy. How could I resist?” Ren was chuckling.

“I’m not here for your entertainment.”

Ren slowly traced his gaze from Hux’s shoe up to his eyes. “Really? I can think of some ways we could entertain each other if you’re interested.”

Hux couldn’t believe the nerve of this asshole. “I’m interested in putting a bullet in your skull, does that work for you?”

Ren’s eyes darkened. “Oh yes, I forgot. You’re a ruthless killer. Doesn’t even know the weight of his own gun.”

Hux had nothing to prove to Ren. “I don’t use handguns very often, Ren, and this one isn’t even mine.” Shit.

“Some assassin you are. Did you even do the things I’ve heard about?” Ren said, condescendingly.

Hux dropped the gun on Ren’s face, watching him flinch as two pounds of steel smacked his absurd nose, and walked out the door.

 

* * *

It was Friday. Hux hadn’t slept. The day had been one long headache. He should have shot Ren that night with Antilles.

But, anger was too exhausting to maintain. He just floated along, investigating contracts again, finding two basic assignments for later that day. His first was a 20-something in Tacoma; far away enough that Ren wouldn’t be there.

Ren was exiting the building as Hux arrived.

“Don’t bother,” Ren said. “It’s a mess in there.”

Hux wasn’t even surprised anymore. He turned back but Ren grabbed his arm. Instinct took over and Hux twisted out of the grip before roughly shoving Ren against the building.

“God, you are desperate.” Ren leaned forward to maximize their points of contact. “Come on, Hux. Let me help you relieve some of this stress.” Ren‘s lips had nearly brushed his own.

Hux pushed away and walked to his car.

“Call me!” a joking voice rang out.

“Fuck off, Ren.” Hux was tired.

The second target was up in Lake Union, the complete opposite side of town.

And the second target had a bullet through the heart and a piece of paper on her chest. It was a phone number. Hux burned the paper with a lighter he found in the kitchen. 

 

* * *

He stopped looking for jobs. He needed a break. He may have stayed in his hotel suite all day. He was not sulking.

His mind stayed restless until it neared 1:00 am and he wandered the streets. He needed to get out. He needed to think. The chill had settled through all his layers of clothes and he looked up to find himself near the Needle. The park was empty, bits of litter blew in the wind and the street lamps cast everything in an eerie orange light.

He stared at the sky and tried to breathe deep. He just had to last a little while longer. Ren would be gone soon, Hux knew. Snoke never was terribly patient and Ren probably had a million jobs to do now. Ren wouldn‘t be able to stalk him anymore. Hux hadn’t failed and he wasn’t crazy. Ren was the disaster. Hux knew what he was. Ren wouldn’t break him.

He opened his eyes and shook off the brief vertigo. It was too far to walk back now. He moved between the buildings, pulling out his phone to request a cab.

If not for the strong arm that grabbed him, Hux would have landed flat on his ass as he ran right into another tall body.

“Ow, fuck-” Hux couldn’t finish the sentence. It was Kylo Ren. In this alley. With an arm around his waist. Was he hallucinating?

Hux slammed his arm into a firm chest, driving Ren back a few steps. “Fuck, Ren! Why?”

“I didn‘t know you‘d be here!” Ren looked genuinely surprised.

“Oh, really? And I suppose our last few encounters were by accident, too.”

“No, seriously. I just walk a lot at night. To think. I was already here, and I saw you come around the corner, and I thought…”

Hux blinked at the honesty, at the way Ren stumbled through his answer. The body language was unmistakable. Hux wasn’t sure if Ren could successfully lie.  

“Okay, fine,“ Hux said, raising his hands to stop Ren’s rambling. “But I want to know - why have you been following me like this? Don‘t Knights have their own business to do? Is this because of Antilles?”

Ren frowned. “What does he have to do with anything? I told you. I was bored.”

“You knew him.”

“What makes you think I knew him?”

“He invited you in. You talked. He was angry.”

“You saw that?”

“I was the next roof over.”

“Sniping?” Ren’s face turned ugly. “No wonder you’re so awful.”

“What the fuck are you even talking about? Don’t change the-”

“No! You’re afraid,” Ren said, angry but pleased. “I can’t believe it. All those rumors about you going crazy for a while… you were just trying to cover up your little secret. You’re a fucking coward.”

Hux punched him. Ren hit the wall behind him, knees weak. He groaned and gingerly touched a few fingers to his mouth. They came away wet and pink. It was ineffectual punching someone in the face, but it was a great way to draw some blood if you did it right. And Ren had a really punchable face.

“I knew it,” Ren spat.

Hux seethed, ignoring the growing throb in his hand. “Are you fucking kidding me, Ren? Who do you think you’re talking to?”

Ren’s mirth suddenly gave way to a colder stare over Hux’s shoulder. Before he could react, Hux felt the cold muzzle of a handgun behind his ear.

“Wallets. Now.”

If Hux wasn’t already beyond pissed, he’d have laughed. He’d laugh at this ridiculous situation of running into Ren on the streets. He’d laugh at every stupid thing that came out of Ren’s mouth. He’d laugh at the brief look of shock that had been on Ren’s face as his fist connected with that jaw. He’d laugh at the poor soul behind him that had no idea who he was fucking with.

There was no way all of this was happening. No one could be that unlucky.

Hux looked back to Ren. He seemed to be readying himself for something rash, no doubt. There wasn’t a shot in Hell that Hux would allow Ren to ‘rescue’ him.

He had a few tricks up his sleeve. His left sleeve.

Hux swung his right arm around to the thief, his long limbs giving him adequate reach.

The gun dropped to the ground. With a horrible gurgling noise, the man brought his hands to his throat. The curtain of dark blood was unstoppable, a few small spurts splattering on the cement. Hux watched with interest a moment longer, as the mugger slowly sank to his knees. He examined his knife for a moment, the five-inch steel blade delightfully red. Hux turned to Ren, who looked back with wide eyes.

“A coward? You honestly thought that I was afraid? To what, watch them die?” Hux gestured to the man gurgling on the ground. “Would you like to know how many people I’ve killed, Ren? I remember each one. Do you know why? I savor watching them look me in the eyes and know that this is the end. No one will save them. It’s just me. I savor it.

“And you’re just a disaster. You destroy things and then say it was on purpose. You say I am playing games while you toy with me.”

Hux extended his arms, presenting himself, one hand still clutched around the bloody knife. “Do you want to know the truth? What they say about me? Did you hear this during your gossip gathering? That they are glad I’m in this profession. They’re glad I’m on their side. Because in some other universe, _I’m happily doing this for free_. That’s why they’re scared. I’d be having too much fun for me to let it stop. So, you can just fuck off, Ren. You could stand to have a little control in your life.”

The man on the ground reached out with one bloody hand, grabbing weakly at Hux’s ankle. Hux turned and kicked the man directly in the face, the body slumping over to its back, slowly relaxing into death.

He looked to Ren, shifting slowly towards the body.

“You’ve been selfish, Ren. Denying me of this.”

Ren was too close. He wasn’t approaching the body. Hux felt Ren’s breath on his face, a slight smile in the corner of his mouth. Those dark brown eyes reflected the lights from the distant cars and, between flashes, Hux saw something. Something.

No. Hux wasn’t sure if the word passed his lips, but his palm pressed heavily against Ren’s chest. He was so warm; it pulsed through Hux’s arm like a heartbeat. Hux swallowed thickly as Ren broke eye contact to stare at their connection. Hux had brought up his knife hand, a small smear of blood decorated Ren’s pale grey shirt and larger drops fell from the blade to Hux’s hand. Ren watched the rivulets curve around his wrist before looking up again, somehow his face even closer than before. Hux put more pressure on Ren’s chest, trying to keep him away. No.

Those dark eyes contained a storm. Hux saw the intent. He saw those eyes scan his face. He saw the lips part and a tongue lightly slip out.

“I was wrong,” Ren admitted with a tiny smile.

Hux pushed hard enough for Ren to step back, but he couldn’t bring himself to lower that hand. A few of his fingers curled into the fabric. He was losing.

Ren’s knees hit the pavement with a light splash from blood or rain. Hux stared at the space Ren’s face once occupied, his hand still up in a mimicry of defense.

Hot breaths were spreading slowly through the layers of fabric at Hux’s groin before he felt the friction of Ren’s lips mouthing at him. All lines of thought stopped the moment those large hands worked open his belt.

Hux became very aware of his breathing, rapid and shallow, trying to catch up with what was happening, his senses alert. The trickle of a gutter draining down the way. The wet spray of tires over the road. The occasional gurgle from the body behind him. The click of his belt buckle and the purr of the zipper. Bright lights reflecting off damp pavement. The faint shadows of distant pedestrians. Dark hair below him. The wind through the buildings. The slight bite to the air at this time of year. The weight of his knife. His bloody finger carding through soft, silken strands. The smell of exhaust. The smell of blood.

Ren’s mouth was so irresistibly warm, racking chills through his body. Hux grew harder and harder from the attention, even though a siren screamed in the back of his mind. He wanted this more desperately than he realized. He was no stranger to fucking, but this was something else.

Ren was sucking lightly at his balls, one hand slowly twisting along the shaft, the other wet and teasing along his perineum.

Hux’s brain tried to resist. Why?

Ren sucked harshly at the swollen tip, draining the fluid that began to leak, forcing a moan deep from Hux’s chest even as he flinched at the treatment. Hux looked down, unsteady on his feet. This man had seen him kill, saw the blood, and just dropped to his knees. He couldn‘t think, he couldn’t process anything but that damn mouth.

“F-fuck, Ren.” That mouth was wonderful. That mouth focused on a steady rhythm, drawing him so close, before switching to taking in as much length as possible and swallowing. Again and again. Hux’s voice cracked as he groaned, his hands gripping Ren’s hair tightly, trying to steady himself. His knife was still in his hand, making Ren’s hair somehow darker with the blood.

But why? Ren had been torturing him. Hux hated him. He hated this perfect, kneeling cocksucker.

Ren was moaning. The vibrations almost bent Hux over, the stimulation so surprising and intense. This was a new torture. Hux made tiny whines of contentment, his throat seizing up before he needed to exhale his pleasure.

Ren’s right hand was occupied with his own self; Hux could see down Ren’s back. He could see those hips roll into Ren’s own hand, that pert ass thrusting slowly.

This might be the most agreeable solution. Ren could be somewhat less annoying and potentially more enjoyable, especially with Hux’s cock shutting him up. Hux dug his fingernails into the scalp below him.

But, he didn’t expect to feel so self-conscious. So exposed. He wasn’t in control. This sentient mess of a man could see right through him. Hux’s knees began to buckle, overwhelmed by the sensation of that tongue lapping so beautifully at the underside of his cock. A slight hint of teeth tore a low groan from deep in his chest. Hux tilted his head back and shut his eyes. He needed control. Ren’s nose tickled the base of his cock, Hux was so deep in that throat.

“Fuck.” Hux looked back down and gripped Ren’s hair in tight fists, the handle of his blade digging into Ren’s skull. Ren moaned so delightfully around his cock as Hux tugged Ren’s hair. He was slipping.

He fought off all remaining thoughts and worked to control that mouth. Slower. Deeper. Giving Ren enough time to breathe between thrusts. This was perfect, the steady build, his muscles contracting and trembling, the almost painful jolts coming down his spine. “That’s it, just like that.”

Ren struggled to keep up, trying to divide his attention between his own cock and the one in his mouth. Hux saw him screw his eyes closed, gasping when he could, before Ren cried out long and deep.

Two hands suddenly pushed Hux’s hips away, Ren taking a moment to breathe before he engulfed Hux’s cock again with a needy whimper, his attention renewed.

Hux was so close, his throat seized up tight. There was a leisure lick along the base, a slight drag of teeth, a harsh suck at the tip, and then everything was warm and wet and white and he let go.

Hux moaned and watched Ren below, swallowing so perfectly. He watched Ren lick everything clean. He watched Ren look up at him with a pleased expression as he put Hux back into order.

Ren stood, their bodies aligned, and he lowered his mouth to Hux’s, a light touch of lips. It was so soft and brief, nothing like the way they lived their lives.

Hux kissed back with all the ferocity he could gather. This was better. Ren greedily accepted a tongue, slipping his arms into Hux’s jacket and encircling his back.

But the doubts and anger and confusion trickled back into his brain. His body became more unresponsive, his lips frozen and arms stiff. Ren stopped and looked at him questioningly. Hux pulled away. What was he doing? It was one thing to avoid killing the Knight, but this… this was a temptation he wasn‘t sure he could resist.

“Ren, I ...” Words escaped him. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and sheathed his knife, not noticing it was still dirty. He looked at Ren’s now unreadable face.

Hux gave him a small nod and walked away.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Art for this chapter:**
> 
> [I was wrong.](http://huxplicit.tumblr.com/post/151365293306/) by [Kawaiilo Ren](https://twitter.com/kawaiilo_ren/)  
>  

> 
> * * *
> 
> **Find me:**
> 
> Twitter - [FedaykinBree](http://twitter.com/fedaykinbree/)  
>  Pillowfort - [huxplicit](http://www.pillowfort.io/huxplicit/)  
>  Dreamwidth - [fedaykinbree](https://fedaykinbree.dreamwidth.org/)  
>  No longer using tumblr, but my blogs are [huxplicit](http://huxplicit.tumblr.com/) | [sith-fedaykin](http://sith-fedaykin.tumblr.com/)  
>  



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hux finally wears his white suit <3 
> 
> check out the art in the end notes... it is semi-nsfw and oh so delicious

* * *

 

She was beautiful. Her rich brown skin glistened with exertion, her hair bounced in coppery waves. She should have been immortalized by the masters of old in some painting, admired for centuries. It was a pity she had to die.

He tried to lose himself in the sensations of this gorgeous creature, riding him so enthusiastically. But he saw disheveled brown hair and black dilated eyes instead. He winced at the snap of his condom being removed and a mouth too loose to enjoy. Just lips and tongue and sloppy. He willed himself to release. She murmured something to him, but he didn’t listen. It didn’t matter.

He focused on picturing his bloodied hands carding through that long brown hair, he could almost hear that deep voice…

It’s an unsatisfying orgasm.

“Fuck, Alec, you really know how to treat a lady.”

He hummed in response. Ren had fucked his life up in more ways than one. The thrill of intimately knowing his prey was gone. There was a hole in his chest, something unfulfilled, something that represented how broken he was. He wasn’t even sure he’d enjoy killing them anymore.

It had been a week since the alleyway and Ren hadn’t shown his face once. It consumed his every waking moment. He saw Ren for four days straight and then nothing. Hux hated him.

 

* * *

“Alec, what’ll it be?”

“Eh, I’ll take Long Island.”

“Seriously?” Tobi made a disgusted face, his blond curls swinging as he shook his head.

“Look, man, if you want to get fucked up without suffering through a bunch of shots, this is your drink,” Hux replied.

“You’re such a pussy!” Isaac yelled into a pillow, knocking several glasses over on the upholstery, all thankfully empty. It wouldn’t be long before he crashed out of the loveseat and to the floor.

“Hey, leave him alone!“ Kelsey turned to purr into Hux’s ear. “I love Long Islands.” Her bronze hair tickled his nose as she shifted her body in his lap, her golden dress riding even higher, in the chair too small for both of them. She had stuck to him ever since their foray earlier and Hux resisted the temptation to throw her to the floor. Patience is a virtue.

Hux watched Isaac bristle at the woman and her roaming hands, emotions churning in his hooded eyes. Hux gave him a discreet wink to make the man blush. After all, Hux had fucked him yesterday. He looked to Tobi and almost wished he had completed the set, but after two days of mediocre sex, Hux was ready for blood. It would cheer him up. He already felt lighter in his pristine white suit. He’d picked it up from his tailor that morning, pleased with the shape it cut. It was a blank canvas he would turn into a masterpiece. He brushed lint from his sleeve, breathing in the faint smell of dust and starch, warm from his body. It was a second skin to him. He could breathe. He was comfortable. He could forget the last week.

From behind the desk, Tobi snapped his fingers at Ennett, a large burly man, head of their hired security detail. But Tobi treated him as a servant. Hux was quite fond of Ennett. He’d only known him a few days, but his disdain for these arrogant children rivaled Hux’s own. Ennett listened to the drink order and stomped out the door to the club downstairs, possibly contemplating if he was being paid enough by these idiots. He wasn’t.

But, idiots they were. They had taken money from the wrong people, pocket change compared to what Hux dealt with, but enough to make them think they were now invincible. They were so young and naïve.

They rented a private room above this club, a waste of their money in Hux’s opinion, and had been draining their accounts ever since. It didn’t matter; they would be dead soon. Might as well go out with a party. It’s how Hux wanted to go.

“So, my little minions, what shall we do tonight?” Tobi addressed the room, pulling out a tiny plastic bag of cocaine.

“I’m not a minnin!” Kelsey yelled directly into Hux’s ear. His patience for the woman was getting thin. She was a loud and slurring drunk.

Isaac could only mumble into his pillow.

“We’ve already been doing jack shit,” Hux added.

“Hey, shut it, old man, you sit back and let us figure it out,” Tobi jabbed.

“Well, you need to let me know soon, the home is expecting me back by midnight.”

Acting the friend was one of Hux’s favorite parts. He could relax, be jovial, watch the tiny ants crawl around, busy with their lives, and then Hux would burn everything to the ground. He didn’t like the age jokes though; he was only a few years older than the others and in far better shape. Hux would freely admit that he was vain and he wouldn’t be a very effective predator if his appearance was off-putting. The smiles, the clothes, all of it camouflage.

“Why do we have to do anything tonight? Alec, you haven’t seen my new apartment yet, maybe the two of us could head there?” Kelsey propositioned. There wasn’t a chance in Hell he would do that.

Isaac was visibly jealous. “We rented this room tonight, let’s stay here, maybe get some dancers brought up or something, I saw some delicious guys down there. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Alec?” Hux smirked, pleased with the exchange.

“Haha, yeah sure, I’m sure he would love to watch you jerk off to some half-naked guys, Issac!” Kelsey replied, too much venom behind her giggles.

Despite the desire to strangle Kelsey if she giggled in his ear one more goddamn time, Hux felt a twitch in his cock. He loved seeing the prey fight over his affections. He could salvage this evening.

“Let’s go rent a theater or some shit! I want to watch Forever City on the big screen,” Tobi suggested.

“Ugh, no, I hate that movie. Just because they’re dead doesn’t mean that everything they did gets to be a masterpiece. That movie is shit.” Isaac was racing towards Angry Drunk Isaac. He’d been that way the night before and Hux took his time subduing him into a trembling mess.

“What’s wrong with you? Have some respect! They’re dead! Right before making their mark on the world. Just imagine what they could have accomplished,” Kelsey implored, starry-eyed.

“Look, guys, I just want to do something fun. I always saw those damn advertisements for renting a theater and there’s nothing good out now, anyway,” Tobi shouted.

“Death doesn’t make someone a saint. A classmate of mine died young,” Hux interjected, more to Kelsey than the room. “Afterwards, people were coming out of the woodwork singing his praises. Everyone said he was their best friend. Everyone wore t-shirts with his name on it. He was an asshole.”

The room was quiet for a time. The deep bass of the club below seemed far away.

Tobi threw up his hands. “Jesus, chill out, you guys. You all need a few hits of something, that’s damn sure.”

Ennett returned with the drinks, passing them out, before returning to his vigil at the door with his fellow guard. It was odd to Hux, having a security detail. He knew the trio had no idea that anyone was coming for them. It made this just another frivolous expense, made to make them feel more important than they were. Especially when they just ordered them around for drinks. It was an infuriating waste of resources.

“All right, let’s go.” Tobi gestured to the lines of cocaine he had created on the desk. Kelsey gracelessly fell from Hux’s side, too drunk and desperate for a hit. Isaac stood on unsteady feet.

Hux remained. He’d find his own high soon enough. He rubbed his right hand down his left sleeve, tracing the blade hidden inside. The anticipation was building. His white suit was nearly blinding him. He was careful with his drink; it wouldn’t do to make stains so soon.

Kelsey was stumbling back towards him, more comfortable falling to the ground at Hux’s feet. Hux imagined slitting her throat, the spray of her blood beautifully painting his white pants.

They would decide where to go next and Tobi would send their ‘hired servants’ to retrieve a vehicle. Then, it would be Hux and the trio remaining. Alone.

Conversation had picked back up, but Hux planned, trying to decide who would die last. He sipped his drink and tried not to gag. It was too sugary for his taste, but what ‘Alec’ had said was true, a few of these well-made would knock him on his ass. He reset his focus. The 11 o’clock news was in full swing, the headliner still being the missing Antilles. They suspected foul play but had yet to have any leads. With the mess that Ren had made, Hux wasn’t sure if he needed to praise Morgan cleaning up so well or the hefty bribes the authorities accepted to ignore it. The Mayor had put out a dramatic plea for information. Hux wondered if someone wanted the campaign for Senate to crash and burn without Antilles or they intended to drive sympathy to her cause. Mayor Organa was apparently quite skilled at pandering to the hearts of the voters. The election was still months off and it was almost a shoo-in. Or this could be the unidentified woman friend of Antilles. Ren might know.

“- forever to get up to Vancouver! I need to do something now!” Isaac was whining.

“I want to go to a casino. What’s the point of having all this money if you aren’t going to spend it?” Kelsey exclaimed.

Hux felt a piece of himself die. He would definitely save her for last.

The club downstairs had shifted to some obnoxiously heavy and fast bass and a headache was forming. It was time.

“Ennett, perhaps you guys should just go get the car and we’ll be down in a minute,” Hux suggested. Ennett looked relieved to have an excuse to run off. He was definitely a kindred spirit.

He opened the door, and it wasn’t just the music downstairs causing the increased bass. There was something else mixed in.

A body flew from around a corner, slamming down a wall with a wet slide of blood. Two loud pops kept him down permanently.

Ennett slammed the door, experienced to understand the sound of gunshots and what they meant. Especially when the corpse in the hall was the third in their trio of bodyguards. Hux had already stood, a well-practiced flow into a proper stance, his gun pulled from inside his white jacket, finger on the trigger.

Excitement coursed through his veins. He could save the idiots and in their gratitude, he’d turn on them. Delightful.

The door burst open…

“You have got to be shitting me!” Hux fell back into the chair behind him, his hand covering half of his head.

Ren had the perfect deer-in-headlights look as he tried to assess the room. “Hux? I…”

“You what? I’d love to hear your list of excuses, Ren,” Hux said, bearing a rather amused face if not for the completely unhinged look in his eyes.

Ren moved, his gun lifting up to dispose of Tobi, and the room descended into chaos. Hux settled in his chair and watched, grabbing his drink.

Down went Tobi, head half-splattered on the floor. A result of very poor marksmanship. Ennett screamed as a bullet entered his leg, but the other guard distracted Ren long enough to fall as Ennett tackled him. Ren hit the ground hard and took a punch from Ennett, grunting as his head slammed into the ground. He heaved against the hold, the other guard’s bullet only grazing Ren‘s arm. Ren rolled, placing Ennett between him and the gun, and got his legs under him. A knife materialized to embed in Ennett’s throat. One on one was overwhelmingly in Ren‘s favor. The other guard had his face slammed into the door. Ren hefted him into the coffee table, glass shards exploding like fireworks. Two more pops.

Isaac had been attempting to open a window to escape. One pop. He died a coward.

Kelsey was last like he had intended. One final pop. He watched her blood hit his legs.

Eight bullets later, it was over. And Hux remained unsatisfied.

The silence was deafening, like a ringing noise that wouldn’t dissipate. It was quite a scene, the aftermath of a wrecking ball, and Hux marveled at the disaster. The blue velvet loveseat was overturned, a few bullet holes torn through with a black spray of blood forever ruining the delicate fabric. The glass coffee table had shattered, the body responsible at an awkward angle from the furniture leg propping up a shoulder. The TV was cracked, a single bullet hole making the screen flicker an odd shade of green. It was impressively still on the wall. The desk seemed relatively intact, the papers and lamp still neatly arranged.

Then, there were the bodies. One guard on the table remnants, Ennett by the desk, one down the hallway. And his golden trio, the ones he had spent the last few days entertaining, the ones he drank with, laughed with, even fucked, were dead where they sat, executed with poor precision. Three dead contracts, three dead guards, perhaps a few more in the hallway down the stairs. It was a disaster.

And then, there was Ren. The hair that Hux thought about was tossed wildly over his face, sticking to his forehead. Hux preened at the cut on Ren’s forehead, still a few stitches remaining, the skin now a yellow-green color. But red painted his shirt, splatters from the knife he had used. He had the blood that Hux had pined for.

This was an easy job, or it would have been if Ren hadn’t decided to take out half of the staff as well. It was an embarrassment to come away wounded. Just three dumb kids who pissed off the wrong people. So very simple and Ren still fucked it up.

Ren’s eyes were wide and focused unnervingly on him. Hux met that gaze with a dulled rage. He had been denied his prey again. Ren was his Hell and Hux felt compelled to fall willingly into the fiery depths. It would be easier.

Slowly, the sounds of the club downstairs leaked in again, a pulsing bass, Ren’s heavy panting out of sync with the beat. The creak of the leather seat was jarring as Hux stood and settled his gaze on the Knight. The ice in his drink rang like tiny bells as he threw back the rest. Hux surveyed his immediate vicinity and saw that no table stood. He threw his glass to Ren’s feet making the other flinch.

“Ren.” Hux’s voice was steady and quiet. “Do you know what you’ve done here? Are you aware? Did you know that I’ve spent the past several days working my way to this moment?”

“Hux, I -”

“Do not speak!” Hux snapped. “I admit, perhaps I am too sure of myself and my position in this city. I’m too comfortable.” Hux stepped closer to Ren, his shoes crunching the glass shards on the floor. “But people know not to come near any of my jobs. They know not to press the unstable. And, believe me, Ren, I am very unstable.”

Ren shuffled back, “I didn’t know it was you! The name -”

“Oh? So this is my fault? You’re just a dick to everyone, then? I’m crushed, I thought we had something special,” Hux said dryly.

“It was under a different name, Hux.”

“ _I’m aware_.”

“It had been pending for several days.”

“Oh, is that your excuse? If you had known, you would have stayed home, right? You would have continued avoiding me.” Hux had trapped Ren against the desk.

“Avoiding you? Has it occurred to you that I may actually have work to do? I suck your dick once and now you’re pining after me like a little girl with a crush?” There was that damn smirk on Ren’s face again.

Hux’s eye twitched. He grabbed the lamp on the desk and swung it with all his strength into Ren’s right ear.

Ren collapsed onto the desk behind him, leaning heavily on his right arm. “Shit!” Blood dripped down from his ear. “Stop Hux, I don’t want to hurt you.”

Hux laughed. “That‘s new.” A liver shot prevented Ren from saying anything other than a groan. He fell to the floor at Hux’s feet, twisting on his hands and knees to prevent any potential kicks causing significant damage. “Before it was all threats to kill me but now? Do you crave the taste of my cum that much?” Hux frowned. So much talk and yet the asshole wouldn’t fight back. Snoke must have a tight leash on him.

“Come on, Ren. Get up. I want to see what you can do.” It was more of a nudge than a kick that Hux gave Ren, but it was enough to shift his balance.

Ren leapt up to grab Hux’s hips and hurled him down on this back, narrowly missing the coffee table frame. Ren clambered up Hux’s stunned body and unleashed a few overhand punches, using his body weight behind the blows to bounce Hux’s skull on the carpet.

Ren stopped when he realized Hux wasn‘t fighting back.

“Finally,” came a soft hiss, a bubble of blood bursting on Hux’s lips. “You’re the first person in many, many years to actually cause any damage.”

“I told you I didn’t want to hurt you, Hux.”

“Does it look like I’m having a bad time?”

Ren blinked.

“Somebody’s blood needs to be on my suit. I think you just volunteered.” Hux smiled, teeth red.

Hux dug his nails into the bullet graze on Ren’s arm, his other hand grabbing Ren by the collar to headbutt him right in the wound he had happily delivered last week. It was Ren’s turn to be dazed and Hux quickly trapped Ren’s head and right arm between his thighs, locking tight to slowly bring Ren to unconsciousness.

Ren thrashed, using his free hand to pry at Hux’s legs. Hux admired Ren’s strength as he was dragged along the carpet by the animal. Muffled gasps and grunts were growing desperate between his thighs and Hux felt a twinge of pleasure build.

Ren was slowing, his grip lessening, choosing a bad time to forget how to escape from this position. That was pathetic.

There were heavy, hot breaths on his cock. Ren had adjusted himself to mouth directly against Hux, those pouting lips, now a bit blue, trailing along his hardening length.

“Don’t think that will make me loosen my grip. I think I’d rather keep you right where you are.”

Ren bit him. Hux let him go, groaning and crawling to his chair, while Ren sucked in as much oxygen as he could. They both took their time standing, one leaning on a chair, the other on the desk. Hux wiped the blood from his nose on his sleeve and locked eyes with Ren. He grinned, his eyes crinkling in delight, as he sized up Ren once again. It was refreshing to see someone that met his height. Ren’s hair was still a mess, a slight ooze of blood tracing the mostly healed cut at his temple, his face returning to its usual color. Hux catalogued each mole on that face before taking in the rest of the body, a black suit and tie with a standard white dress shirt. Uninspiring and inconspicuous. His left arm had a shiny gleam of blood at the rip from the graze.

Hux removed his white jacket and set it on the leather chair. Meeting Ren’s eyes again, he rolled his black sleeves up and unstrapped his knife, tossing it as well. With a wink, Hux stalked slowly to him like he was approaching a wild animal. It was time to play.

Ren’s face was so expressive, simultaneously curious and defensive. The closer he came, the more he saw hints of eagerness. The man had no ability to hide his emotions, they may as well be written on his cheeks. So expressive.

Showing his palm first, Hux slowly took Ren’s face in his hand and traced a cheek with his thumb. Ren turned his face in and kissed the palm, running his lips up to nip at Hux’s finger. They smiled at each other. A gentle hand to calm the animal.

The kiss was rough and thorough. Ren’s hands were on his hips, delightfully framing the sharp angle that Hux’s body cut, his thumbs stroking the sensitive skin. Those hands nearly circled his waist. Hux gripped the dark hair that had plagued his memories too many times in the past week, jealous of its thickness, while his other hand loosened Ren’s tie and pushed the suit jacket from his shoulders. Hux pressed him against the desk, both of them tall enough for Ren to sit on the edge while they ground their hips against each other. So desperate and strong, it was more of a painful grind of pelvic bones.

Hux bit Ren’s lip when the other hissed at the jacket being tugged roughly off his injured arm. He kneaded the firmness beneath his hands as Hux felt along Ren’s torso, and he was overcome with the desire to see. He slid his fingers between two buttons and pulled, snapping threads easily and finished off those that remained. Hux stepped back to admire.

“Fuck, Ren.” Hux traced a finger along the median line, watching the muscles contract at the ticklish contact, and used his other hand to push open the shirt even more, his fingers giving a quick brush against Ren’s nipples. Body overriding brain, Hux lowered his head to suck and lick at each curve he could find, forcing Ren to sit fully on the desk.

“Hux, please,” Ren whimpered, his hands buried in Hux’s mussed red hair.

“Please, what?” Hux murmured into the skin beneath his mouth. His hands worked on Ren’s belt, palming heavily at Ren’s cock.

Ren couldn’t formulate a response unless the moan counted as communication. Hux pulled Ren from the desk, working on unzipping Ren’s pants, his mouth everywhere but where Ren needed it. The boxers pulled down and Hux was impressed again. A pity that personality was attached to this magnificent thing. The girth alone would be quite pleasurable to play with.

Some other time.

Hux knelt and licked from base to tip, drawing out a delicious cry from the man before him, his hips involuntarily twitching, desperate for more. Hux gave the tip a long, wet suck, before abruptly flipping Ren around, one hand pressing on the small of Ren’s back to bend him over the desk. The Knight tensed from being so exposed while Hux bit his ass, causing him to whine. Hux collected saliva in his mouth before spitting on Ren’s hole and rubbing a finger in the mess. His thumb descended to the skin behind Ren’s balls, pressing hard.

“God, Hux, I knew you had to have some other skill besides bitching.”

Hux abruptly entered a finger with less spit than needed, causing Ren to flinch. “I don’t think this is the time to be getting on my nerves.” He sucked harshly at the sensitive skin on Ren’s thigh as he worked to loosen the tight muscles.

“It was meant to be a compliment?”

“Ren, I will take you apart slowly and leave you to die if you say one more thing that isn’t begging.” Hux added another finger with more spit.

Ren moaned and dropped his forehead on the desk.

“That’s it, Ren…” Hux doubled his efforts, earning more intoxicating noises from the Knight. One last twist of his hand led Hux to stand and unbutton his fly, slicking his cock, and pulling Ren’s hips out to line up perfectly. He was just as desperate as Ren.

He pressed in slowly, loving the expletives flying from Ren’s mouth. It was too tight, too rough, too painful, they needed lube. Ren’s ass eagerly pressed against Hux, drawing him deep, forcing Hux to give a breathy moan in return.

A slight chuckle from Ren was enough for Hux to yank him up, forcing Ren to arch his back, as Hux pulled at the collar of his open shirt to suck red bruises into the skin. One hand slid around to pump Ren’s cock, disrupting the rhythm of their hips, Ren deciding between grinding back or thrusting forward.

“Yes, that’s it, right there,” Hux purred in Ren’s ear. “So perfectly under my control. So easily. What’s your goal here, Ren? Besides being a pain in my ass?”

“A pain in your ass?” Ren replied, before grunting as Hux gave his cock a harsh tug. “W-what? I think it’s obvious my goal right now is to get o-off.”

Hux bit at an earlobe. “You’ve been doing nothing but drive me insane for the past ten days. And here you are, gladly taking my cock.”

Ren stuttered, uncertain of a response. “Y-yes?”

Hux pushed Ren heavily down on the desk, his thrusting becoming slow, hard, and deep. Ren grabbed at the upper edge over his head as he tried not to drool on the surface of the desk.

“Fuck, Hux, j-just, fuck me,” Ren cried with need.

“That doesn’t sound like begging.”

“Please!”

Hux increased his pace, feeling his own climax crawling to the surface. Ren’s expressive noises would echo in his mind for weeks, Hux surmised. He stared at the body below him, so open for him, and those dark waves of hair shifting with each thrust, the sharp cries with each snap of his hips. It was enough to send him over, pressing deep inside, his hands squeezing Ren’s hips as he fell onto Ren’s back.

Tiny desperate noises interrupted Hux’s high; Ren having yet to come, still jerking backwards, and still rubbing his cock against the desk. Hux pushed himself up on one arm and scanned the desktop, trying to find the item he needed to finish Ren off.

A sudden bang traveled through the desk, amplified into Ren’s ear, and he jerked up at the sound. A dull letter opener pinned the cuff of his right sleeve to the surface. Fear froze Ren, aware of how easily it could have been his flesh stabbed through.

Hux pulled out and cleaned himself off with Ren’s shirttail, securing himself and stepping away.

“No, no, no,” Ren pleaded. “Hux?” He sat up and looked over his shoulder, the angle difficult with his arm pinned and his pants around his thighs.

Hux retrieved his jacket and threw it over his shoulder. “Your left arm looked like it could use some exercise. Have fun.”

“Are you shitting me? Hux!”

Hux stepped close to hiss in Ren’s face. “Yet again you denied me my prize. The one I anticipated for a week. That I worked for these past three days. You think me fucking you is forgiveness?”

Hux rose and walked to the door. “But don’t worry. There will come a time when fucking you won’t satisfy me as much as bleeding you dry.”

The door closed, and Ren was alone with five bodies, pinned to a desk and harder than he thought possible.

 

“ _Fuck._ ”

 

 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Art for this chapter:**
> 
> [A sudden bang...](http://huxplicit.tumblr.com/post/150144385796/) by [felidaefatigue](http://twitter.com/felidaefatigue/)  
>  

> 
> * * *
> 
> **Find me:**
> 
> Twitter - [FedaykinBree](http://twitter.com/fedaykinbree/)  
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>  No longer using tumblr, but my blogs are [huxplicit](http://huxplicit.tumblr.com/) | [sith-fedaykin](http://sith-fedaykin.tumblr.com/)  
>  



	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No good excuses from me: summer depression, hospital stay, getting ready to go on 'vacation', etc etc I'm busy 
> 
>  
> 
> PREVIOUSLY ON THE ASSHAT SHOW:  
> Hux was about to go all serial killer in his pretty white suit, but Ren showed up and made a murder mess. What a jerk. So Hux fucked him and left him dry.

* * *

 

It had been fourteen days since Antilles became the first corpse in the messy trail of bodies left by Kylo Ren. Fourteen days since Hux first laid eyes on the splinter that was slowly shattering his mind. He sat hunched over in a booth, lost in thought, deep in the underbelly of the Piett. His golden drink sat untouched in a pool of condensation, warm and ill-mixed, as he waited. 

Thirteen days since I stole a lawyer from Hux in an alley. Twelve days since Hux had been sabotaged and humiliated in that hotel. Eleven days since Hux’s desperation led him to admit defeat.

Ten days since an accidental encounter late at night in the city. He could hear his knife parting that neck so sweetly, the blood spraying in black curtains. He could still remember the feel of that warm mouth, so interested and eager. 

Three days since Hux denied Ren. He‘d taken great pleasure in that, in multiple ways. Even when he woke with a swollen face and dark eyes the next morning, prodding his split lip in wonder. 

He wiped the water ring from the table with a cocktail napkin, trying to shift his thoughts. Still, his tongue traced the scab, too fresh to stay closed if he smiled. 

He hated being undermined. He hated Ren stumbling around with no purpose. He hated how they crossed paths. He hated that Ren’s real work would remain a mystery to him. 

He loved the challenge. 

It was time for Ren to get a taste of his own medicine. 

* * *

 

A click of heels heralded Phasma’s arrival, her tall form sliding to the blue chair opposite him.

“Wow,” she whispered. “You look like shit.”

Hux frowned. “Thanks.” His black eyes had faded and his cheek wasn‘t as puffy, but all marks were beacons on his pale skin. Hux ran his hand through his hair, self-conscious, and cleared his throat. “Where’s Kylo Ren?”

It was an abrupt question and the soft murmur of voices mixed with the clinking of glasses was the only response he received. He looked up into Phasma’s concerned eyes. 

“Eamon, if you kill him, it’s not going to be pretty. Snoke would take it quite personally.”

Hux sighed, unsurprised at the assumption. “Where is he?”

Phasma reached across the table and enclosed Hux’s hand in hers. “You haven’t been yourself since he arrived. I know that you had a… a particular way of handling things, but I’m worried about you. Please, just… We don’t have the full picture.”

Hux snorted. He was pretty sure the full picture didn’t involve Ren tormenting him just because Ren was bored.

“Eamon, promise me you won’t make a mistake.”

“You know I can never promise something like that,” Hux said with a small smile. He was getting the first name treatment.

Phasma’s face softened. “You’re the closest thing I have to a little brother-”

“I don’t need protecting.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then, where is he?”

Blue eyes tracked over his whole body, searching for any clues. She wouldn’t find anything; Hux had learned how to control his body language, his facial tics, by the age of sixteen. 

She looked down. “He only stayed that first night and we haven’t seen him since,” Phasma said. “I have the address where he requested his things sent.”

“That will be enough.” Hux stood, Phasma’s hand slipping from his. “Text it to me.”

* * *

 

Capitol Hill was a nice neighborhood, sitting just northeast of downtown, yet too contemporary for Hux’s tastes. Overrun with twenty-somethings, looking for cheap beer and long nights under the guise of culture. However, this made it quite profitable. Some of his own investments had helped build the Pike Motorworks apartment complex that now housed his target. It had been simple to make a phone call, accept praise for his generosity in the project, and get the information he needed.

  [Kylo Ren - Apt. 511N] 

He‘d thought Ren would operate under a little more secrecy, an alias at least. But his name, and the squiggle he called a signature, was on the lease. 

Hux shifted his weight, feet aching, and wished the entrance to Ren’s building had been across from a nice bistro or coffee shop. But no. It was a fucking parking garage. A not-so-small part of him felt this was purposeful, that Ren somehow knew Hux would be out here scoping the place and wanted him to be as uncomfortable as possible. He sighed then gagged, the smell of smoke and piss completely saturated into the surrounding concrete.

From this angle, he could not see inside, only that Ren’s lights were on. As tempting as it would be to sit in the small courtyard in the heart of the complex, spying on Ren’s every move, he needed to remain inconspicuous. Well. As inconspicuous as a man in an Isaia suit loitering around in a parking garage could be (honestly, it was surprising that no one had tried to sell or buy drugs from him yet). But, if Ren was half as skilled as Hux hoped he was, then scanning the courtyard below his apartment window would be as ingrained as checking your mirrors while driving a car. Besides, he wasn’t some Romeo calling at the window of Juliet. That would be the story of two heirs putting crossbow bolts through their enemy’s hearts. Hux smirked. The punchline would essentially be the same. 

He flinched out of his thoughts at the sound of a loud crack. The pizza place below him had a bell on their plexiglass door and every time it opened it was the harsh smack of metal on plastic instead of bells ringing. Completely pointless. And drunken voices called to each other from across the block, much more raucous than he expected for a weekday night. It was much too loud in this neighborhood. He was used to the soft sounds of water outside his house, the occasional seagull. Or the Piett, where city noises faded into quiet traffic once rush hour had finished. This was too… fast. 

Hux swallowed down his nervous energy. That’s all this was; he was stressed and every tiny thing just added to it. Tonight could go so many ways.

Of course, none of that mattered unless Ren would just fucking leave his apartment. Hux checked his watch again, [11:38]. The building’s security cameras showed Ren leaving around 11:00 fairly consistently. He had left at 11:02 pm the night they last saw each other at the club. That was the worst insult by far. From his calculations, between Ren leaving his apartment and when he arrived, Ren must have actually jogged down to the club, walked in, and immediately started shooting. No prior surveillance, no assessing his target’s location, no scoping out the area, no escape route, no plan. There would have been no time. Hux had spent days enjoying the anticipation and Ren had literally checked the clock and walked down to murder them all.

Ren needed to stop. Hux’s sanity required it.

The lights switched off. He was caught between feeling relieved and also terrified that maybe Ren was just going to sleep. Fifty-seven long seconds later, Kylo Ren walked out the gate from his complex’s courtyard. He looked both ways along the sidewalk, zipped up his leather jacket, and turned to his right.

Hux’s feet tingled with each step as blood flow started working through his legs again, stalking along the second floor of the garage, just enough out of sight that his hair wouldn’t give him away should Ren look up. They were rapidly approaching an intersection, Ren weaving his way through the light crowd with his long legs, and Hux realized that the second floor of the garage wasn’t ideal for keeping pace with prey. They had both reached their corners: Hux in the garage and Ren at the crosswalk. After a quick scan for traffic, Ren jaywalked diagonally across and headed to the left. Hux could still follow but he was running out of space.

Ren turned to his right, up a flight of stairs next to the sidewalk, leading to a small green of a local college. “Shit,” Hux muttered, trying to calculate his next move. He could sprint down the stairs, try to catch up— Ren opened a door to the building on his left and went inside.

That was remarkably convenient. Hux hopped down the nearby garage stairs and dodged traffic to cross to the building. A quick glance inside showed a stairwell. Easing the door open with practiced hands, Hux slipped inside silently, looking up to catch a quick glance of a hand on a railing before he heard another door open and close. It sounded like the third floor up. Hux took the steps two at a time.

And he stopped just short of the third floor. He could see Ren through the window on the stairwell door. He was looking into a room, the light from inside illuminating his face in the darkened hallway. Hux had seen this expression on Ren’s face before, the night Antilles died, the same anguish he tried to hide behind stoicism. The Knight had started awkwardly pacing, his lips moving, perhaps talking softly to himself, occasionally hitting his head against the wall, almost opening the door before freezing. Did Hux really stumble upon one of Ren’s jobs for a change? This was better than he could have planned. 

Ren fell to his knees, his face buried in his hands.

Hux grimaced, uncomfortable, and dropped down a step out of view. Was that guilt? Despair? Hesitancy? Regret? A million questions flashed through his head, all about things he didn’t have much familiarity. How stable was Ren?

Hux peeked back out the window again just in time to see Ren disappear a little further down the way, the door stalling long enough for Hux to see it was the restroom. He bit his bottom lip, considering his options.

He needed to take advantage of this. Ren certainly hadn’t hesitated when dealing with Hux.

Rolling his steps, Hux eased open the stairwell door and silently approached the lit room that caused Ren so much grief. A quick glance revealed an older man bent over his desk, working on papers. He appeared to be a professor up late grading papers. Hux checked the name on the door.

     [Tekka, L.S.]

He pulled his phone from his inner pocket and typed in a search. Lor San Tekka was a retired professor of Law from Dartmouth, recently moved to Seattle, now a guest professor for a few Social Work classes for the summer sessions. Hux downloaded the syllabus from the professor’s page and discovered that office hours had run from 5 until 11 pm this very evening. It seemed a mid-term test was tomorrow. He could use this.

Hux unbuttoned his suit jacket and loosened his tie. He ran his hands through his hair a few times, taking sharp and short breaths in, and undid a few buttons on the top of this shirt. After a bout of hyperventilating, Hux held his breath and messily pushed up his sleeves, keeping an ear on the bathroom down the hall in case Ren had finally collected himself.

Silence.

Hux pushed the rest of the air from his lungs and knocked on Tekka’s door, opening it enough to peek his head in.

“Professor?” Hux asked, sounding out of breath and desperate.

Tekka looked up from his paperwork, and Hux noticed how kind and tired his eyes appeared. “Yes? Come in.”

“I’m so sorry, I had to work late and I forgot your hours and then I saw your light on and I was hopeful but I totally understand if you don’t want anyone bothering you right now I just wanted to see if you were in,” Hux sucked in a deep breath of air, becoming quite lightheaded before he slumped into the chair facing Tekka’s desk. “Uh. Sorry.”

Tekka chuckled softly, “Yes, yes, I’m still here.” Hux could hear the soft Swedish accent, the way he seemed to swallow his vowels, and a flash of pain briefly leapt through Hux’s heart. He hadn’t heard those sounds in so long. 

“Um, if I can be honest, uh professor, sir, I came to ask some questions about chapter five, but now that I’m here, I can’t even remember them,” Hux exhaled, hiding his face in his hands. “I realize you are probably on your way out…”

“Oh, I’ll be here for a few more hours, I suppose, at this rate. If I didn’t have this answer key, I wouldn’t be able to tell my questions from a biology thesis,” Tekka replied, a warmth in his tone. “Why don’t we just take a look at the chapter five summary and work from there?”

Hux couldn’t help but chuckle. He liked him. Tekka was charming.

Hux wet his lips. “Um, you’re new this year, right? You came from Dartmouth, yeah?”

“I did.”

“But it’s cold and it rains and you came all this way to this crappy community college?” Hux feigned embarrassment. “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean... I mean... No offense.”

Tekka smiled crookedly at him and put his pen down. “Truth be told, I love it here. The trees are quite splendid. They make me feel like a boy again.”

Hux smiled back, drawn in by Tekka’s voice. “So, you moved here for the sikas? I guess that’s a valid reason.”

“No, no, I’m also here to offer an old friend some assistance, and this job seemed like a good way to pass the time.” Tekka had a faraway look in his eye. Maybe Hux was wrong, maybe Ren had invited this man here. Maybe this was a regular meeting and Ren was just anxious. 

“Well, I’m glad you’re here. You’re a lot more engaging than some of the other professors,” Hux ventured.

“Thank you, my boy,” Tekka said. “Now, if you want, I can just start—”

Ren had finally gotten over himself and abruptly entered.

And there was that look that Hux had begun to crave; Ren was quite expressive. Those first few encounters had been points to the Knight, but now Hux held the upper hand. That delicious shock with a trace of fear became Hux’s lifeblood.

“What are you doing here?” Ren was so completely surprised Hux thought he might collapse against a wall with Tekka just a blur in the background.

“What, no apologies this time?” Hux smirked, savoring Ren’s distress.

“No one knows I’m here. This was unlisted. It’s mine.”

Oh, this was so much better. Hux turned to Tekka, who had been looking at Ren curiously before some spark of recognition lit his features.

“It’s... I almost didn’t recognize you with that hair! You’re no longer a boy! But, I thought you had-? Is it really you? What’s happened? Is that why your mo—”

Tekka slumped back into his chair, a hole in his forehead, red painting the wall behind him.

Hux turned to look at the mess with disappointed eyes and pulled out his phone, dialing a number. “Morgan? A reservation for one, please. Some things came up unexpectedly.” He typed out a text message before he slid the phone back into his pocket and glanced at Ren. Were he someone else, he would have cowered under the raw fury in Ren’s eyes. Instead, he found it delightful.

“Why are you here?” Despite the rage contorting his features, Ren spoke softly, in that halting pattern of speech he seemed to favor.

“I followed you here.” Hux’s eyes drifted to the gun in Ren’s twitching hand, before nodding at Tekka’s body. “So. Two dead. Two people that knew you personally. Interesting.”

Ren leveled the gun at Hux’s face, his stance wide. “Trying to dig up some sort of backstory for me? Find anything interesting? Or should I just do myself a favor and kill you now?”

Hux shifted in his seat to pull out his own gun, albeit more casually. “What if I came here to kill you?”

He wondered if he’d be able to get a shot off before Ren. At the same time, staring down the barrel of a gun, Hux found himself too tired to care. The past two weeks had been hell and this moment meant nothing but victory. 

Ren’s expressive face cracked, anguish settling in, held together only by the tightness of his grip on the gun. They were both broken things and Ren would surely kill him. There was only one way out of this.

 

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” Hux asked.

 

“What?” Ren lowered his gun slightly. 

 

Hux set his gun on his lap. “We need to have a conversation, Kylo Ren. I figured a restaurant might be a nice change of pace from rooms filled with corpses.”

“So, bleeding me dry isn’t quite satisfying enough, yet?”

Hux chewed his lip for a moment, not expecting his own words to be thrown at him. “I could have killed you from the eastern roof of your building, that would be easy. I could have shot you when you ran to the bathroom. I could have shot you now and then there would be three bodies for Morgan’s crew to clean up. Regardless of any posturing we’d like to make, I’m dangerous and you’re dangerous. I’m not going to take unnecessary risks when I don’t need to.”

“Your point is?”

“If I was ready to kill you, you wouldn’t even have time to realize what was happening.”

Ren holstered his gun inside his leather jacket. “That makes me less inclined to trust you.”

“Really? I was hoping it would make you feel more at ease.”

For a beat, they looked at each other: Hux still so tired and Ren’s anger dissipating into confusion.

Ren blinked. “Uh, were you wanting to get food now, or…?”

“If you’re free.”

“Uh, yeah, yeah.” Ren was caught off guard, precisely what Hux had wanted. Ren shifted his weight and looked at the floor before he checked his watch. “I know a place that might still have food at this hour.” It almost sounded like a question.

Hux stood, readjusted his clothes to their proper position and holstered his gun. He had forgotten how late it was.

Ren stepped forward and left a gold coin on the desk. “Shall we then?”

With a blood-soaked room at their backs, they quietly exited the darkened building. The awkward silence was heavy on their shoulders. Their previous encounters had been in anger, in taunts, in sex. This was a stroll down the street and it was horrible.

“It’s uh, down here, behind my building.” Ren’s voice quavered slightly. “I’m sure you noticed it.”

Hux merely hummed in response. He hadn’t quite thought this through. He needed to talk to Ren, to explain what he had in mind, but he hadn’t expected everything to go so smoothly. But, if he wanted to be one step ahead of Ren, he would have to not know the steps.  At least they weren’t going to that pizza place overrun with drunks.

“Your hair is down,” Ren said simply, his hands jammed into his jacket pockets as he walked.

“Is that supposed to be a metaphor?”

“I’ve never seen your hair like that.”

Hux suddenly felt self-conscious, a very rare occurrence, and reached up to smooth his product-less hair, brushing a few strands out of his eyes. “There was no need to push it back. I honestly had no plans to kill anyone tonight.”

“You look nice.”

This was how he could lose control over the situation. They were almost to the portal leading to Ren’s apartment. Time to deflect.

“A little close to home to be making such a mess, Ren. You should never mix business with pleasure.”

“Too late.” Ren stopped in front of a bar and gestured between the two of them. “And besides, what’s this then?”

“Currently undefined, which I hope to remedy.” Hux opened the door for Ren to enter.

Hux had stood across from this building while he waited in the parking garage; a large amount of his frustration earlier came from the noisy patrons of this bar. Luckily, the crowds had dispersed, only a few small groups remained scattered about. Ren made eye contact with the bartender, holding up two fingers, and getting a nod in return. Ren seemed to be a regular then, after only living here a short time. Perhaps he had social skills after all.

They slid into a small booth against a wall and Ren took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry for punching you the other night,” Ren blurted out, looking at the table.

Hux hoped Ren wasn’t expecting apologies in return. “I’m not. Besides, you barely hit me,” Hux sniffed, touching his nose. “It’s not even sore.” However, Hux took a moment to admire his marks on Ren: the cut on his temple starting to scar, a purple bruise next to Ren’s right ear from the lamp. His contribution to what had to be a thoroughly beat-up body. Hux vaguely remembered feeling scars across Ren’s abdomen...

The bartender delivered two dark beers and the small sip he took burst with hoppy flavor in Hux’s mouth. He gave the glass a small smile and looked at Ren. Ren who was staring at him desperate for some sort of recognition. Some hint of approval, perhaps?

“What did you want to talk about, Hux?”

Hux couldn’t hide his pleasure. This was going so much easier than he had anticipated. Ren seemed to be so willing and genuine once you got past the fact that he was a huge asshole.

“This ‘special mission’ of yours? How many have you crossed off?” Hux said.

He only received pursed lips and a nervous tic of Ren rubbing the nail of left thumb with his forefinger. 

Hux pressed his advantage. “While I waited for you, I found out a few interesting things about your new apartment complex.” Hux took a large swallow of beer. “Kerr Sella, a bright girl, just a few years younger than you, I believe, studying Political Science at the University of Washington. Lived two floors down from you. Last seen alive at a bar a few blocks away from here. What happened to her?”

“I heard she drowned.” Ren avoided eye contact. It was so obvious it hurt.

“Yes, how curious,” Hux replied.

A large plate of nachos with guacamole arrived. Hux thanked every deity that it had real cheese on it and not that disgusting yellow sauce. 

“So, Ren, was she another friend of yours on your mysterious hit list, or did you finally just crack?”

Ren slammed the table with the side of his fist and a few patrons looked over at the noise. “Is that why we’re here? So you can ask questions about a random girl? If this is all you wanted to talk about, I think we’re done.”

“You’re way too easy.” Hux popped a sliced jalapeño into his mouth, smiling as he chewed. “I poke a little at your soft spots and you bite? Like a feral dog?”

Ren looked unimpressed. “And you’re a spoiled prick,” he said.

Hux stretched out his back. “Let’s get to know one another. You don’t seem the type to have been born into the business, so to speak.”

Ren eyed him warily. “Stereotypical childhood. Absent parents, nobody loved me, some random trauma, fill in the blanks with whatever you wish. Why?”

“Just making conversation,” Hux said and frowned at the mushy chip he pulled from the pile. 

“Your turn, then.” 

“Oh, I don’t think so. You have mentioned multiple times how you know all about me; you apparently know me better than I know myself.” Hux looked up and met Ren’s eyes, daring him to admit to something, anything. 

Ren drank his beer, never looking away, just licking his lips and reaching for more food. Fine. 

“School?”

Ren snorted around an overloaded chip. “Public school, then private, then a couple of juvenile detention centers, followed by a reform school. Imagine that on an application.”

Hux frowned and grabbed another nacho. “Just some delinquent, then? That’s disappointing.”

“Fuck you,” Ren said. “I’m not here to get your approval.” 

“What are you here for then?” 

Ren paused. “Church outreach program.” 

Hux nearly spat out his chip, choking for a second before laughing brightly. Ren beamed back at him. Perhaps this whole plan could work out. 

“Fine, fine, you win,” Hux replied, smiling. “You’ve got me imagining Reverend Snoke and I’m not happy about it.” 

“Well, he did pretend to be a priest when he picked me up from the reform school. Didn’t your father do that, too? Not the priest bit, but recruiting from those places? Where no one misses you when you’re gone?” Ren leaned back and ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve been with Snoke ever since. He showed me how to turn this excess... energy into something productive.”

Hux couldn’t stop the laugh. “Productive? He’s turned you into a mad dog, rampaging through town.”

“Maybe to you,” Ren said defensively.

Hux smiled back. “Why are your contracts are unlisted? Antilles was open, a fluke you say, but he knew you, so I have to assume he is connected to the rest. Are these actual targets or is Snoke picking them out?”

“What does it matter?”

“It can matter quite a bit. You’re either my colleague or a beast on a very short leash.”

“Asking questions will get you into trouble,” Ren warned.

Hux merely leveled his gaze at Ren, expecting an answer regardless.

“You know that some people are willing to pay a little more for their own reassurance. They came to Snoke and he passed it to me. I’m sure the Cadets did the same thing, not that you’d know anything about that.”

Hux chewed on his lip. On second thought, Ren was an obnoxious prick and this would never work. “So, you want me to believe someone paid a lot of money for an undergrad? And old, retired professor? How much were they? You are getting paid, right?”

Ren scooped a tortilla through the guacamole, chewing slowly as he examined the paint on the wall. It was uneven, and the booth had a few rogue strokes on the edges.

Hux shook his head. “Seriously?”

“Everything I need is provided — this is a good job.” 

“Keep telling yourself that. You’re merely property.” 

Ren laughed bitterly. “And you’re so much better?”

“You have no idea what you’re doing.”

“Really? And you’re the example I should use? You said it yourself, you’re a step away from being a serial killer. I think I’ve done my job just fine.”

“Oh yes, you’re right,” Hux said, unimpressed. “We all blindly follow orders to our deaths.” 

“I’m not a puppet, I chose this!” Kylo yelled. 

“When you were a child? Grow up, Ren.”

Ren growled, attracting attention again as he pushed back hard enough for the booth chair to squeak backward. “Hux! Just spit it out, you’re so fucking annoying. What did you want to tell me? Why are you here?”

“I don’t like you, Ren. I think I may actually loathe you. You’ve disrupted my life, you’re making a mess in my city, and I want to kill you.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Ren rubbed at his fingernails again.

“I’d like a truce, a partnership. You can still do your ‘super secret’ missions alone if you wish, but I want you to accompany me on my own work.”

“Why would I ever do that?”

“So you can know what it’s like. You can still do your job and I’ll do my job. And I’ll know where you are so you can’t keep fucking everything up.”

“And this is going to be beneficial because...?” 

“You need to learn what you’re doing.”

“Fuck you.”

Hux chuckled and passed a heavy gaze over Ren’s body, his voice low. “Of course.”

Ren’s face blanked for a moment to Hux’s satisfaction, before his eyes darkened with suspicion. “Really?”

Hux shrugged. “You could use a lesson in control, for starters.”

“And you’re the best teacher for that?”

“Perhaps.” 

Kylo frowned, his eyes drawing over Hux’s body. “Your plan is to control me with sex?” 

“Not initially, but when you put it that way… “ he replied. “Interested?”

“It’s almost closing time.” Ren sighed, a little confused and turned on. “Do you want to move this conversation upstairs?”

Hux was all teeth. He’d make this work. 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting new chapters every Tuesday and Friday! Theoretically. I'm about to go on vacation but it's not really, I am in a wedding and I have parties to plan and kids to take care of and blegh 
> 
> (The usual links will be added later)


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